CHAPTER XIII:CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON

Let the poor willing argue all he can
It is religion still that makes the man.

WHEN the children of years to come, hearing his
great name re-echoed from every lip, shall say to
their fathers, " What was it that raised Washington
to such a height of glory?" let them be told that it
was HIS GREAT TALENTS, CONSTANTLY GUIDED AND
GUARDED BY RELIGION. For how shall man, frail
man, prone to inglorious ease and pleasure, ever ascend
the arduous steps of virtue, unless animated by the
mighty hopes of religion? Or what shall stop him in
his swift descent to infamy and vice, if unawed by
that dread power, which proclaims to the guilty that
their secret crimes are seen, and shall not go unpunished ? Hence,
the wise, in all ages, have pronounced,
that " there never was a truly great man without
religion."

There have, indeed, been courageous generals, and
cunning statesmen, without religion, but mere courage
or cunning, however transcendent, never yet made a
great man.

"Admit that this can conquer, that can cheat;
'Tis phrase absurd, to call a villain great!
Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave,
Is but the more a fool, the more a knave."

No! to be truly great, a man must have not only
great talents, but those talents must be constantly
exerted on great, i.e., good actions--and perseveringly
too--for if he should turn aside to vice--farewell to
his heroism. Hence, when Epaminondas was asked
which was the greatest man, himself or Pelopidas?
he replied, "wait till we are dead:" meaning that
the all of heroism depends on perseverance in great
and good actions. But sensual and grovelling as man
is, what can incline and elevate him to those things
like religion, that divine power, to whom alone it be-
longs to present those vast and eternal goods and ills
which best alarm our fears, enrapture our hopes, in-
flame the worthiest loves, rouse the truest avarice, and
in short, touch every spring and passion of our souls
in favour of virtue and noble actions.

Did SHAME restrain Alcibiades from a base action
in the presence of Socrates? " Behold," says Religion,
"a greater than Socrates is here! "

Did LOVE embolden Jacob to brave fourteen years
of slavery for an earthly beauty? Religion springs
that eternal love, for whose sake good men can even
glory in laborious duties.

Did the ambition of a civic crown animate Scipio
to heroic deeds? Religion holds a crown, at the sight
of which the laurels of a Cresar droop to weeds.

Did avarice urge Cortez through a thousand toils
and dangers for wealth ? Religion points to those
treasures in heaven, compared to which all diamond
beds and mines of messy gold are but trash.

Did good Aurelius study the happiness of his subjects for this world's glory? Religion displays that
world of glory, where those who have laboured to
make others happy, shall "shine like stars for ever
and for ever."

Does the FEAR of death deter man from horrid
crimes? Religion adds infinite horrors to that fear--
it warns them of death both of soul and body in hell.

In short, what motives under heaven can restrain
men from vices and crimes, and urge them on, full
stretch, after individual and national happiness, like
those of religion? For lack of these motives, alas'
how many who once dazzled the world with the glare
of their exploits, are now eclipsed and set to rise no
more!

There was Arnold, who, in courage and military
talents, glittered in the same firmament with Washington,
and, for a while, his face shone like the star
of the morning; but alas! for lack of Washington's
religion, he soon fell, like Lucifer, from a heaven of
glory, into an abyss of never ending infamy.

And there was general Charles Lee, too, confessedly
a great wit, a great scholar, a great soldier, but, after
all, not a great man. For, through lack of that magnanimous benevolence which religion inspires, he fell
into the vile state of envy: and, on the plains of Monmouth, rather than fight to immortalize Washington,
he chose to retreat and disgrace himself.

There was the gallant General Hamilton also a
gigantic genius--a statesman fit to rule the mightiest
monarchy--a soldier " fit to stand by Washington and
give command." But alas! for lack of religion, see
how all was lost! preferring the praise of man to that
praise " which cometh from God," and pursuing the
phantom honour up to the pistol's mouth, he is cut
off at once from life and greatness, and leaves his
family and country to mourn his hapless fate.

And there was the fascinating Colonel Burr, a man
born to be great--brave as Gesar, polished as Chesterfield, eloquent as Cicero. Lifted by the strong arm
of his country, he rose fast, and bade fair soon to fill
the place where Washington had sat. But alas! lacking religion, he could not wait the spontaneous fall
of the rich honours ripening over his head, but in an
evil hour stretched forth his hand to the forbidden
fruit, and by that fatal act was cast out from the Eden
of our republic, and amerced of greatness for ever.

But why should I summon the Arnolds and Lees,
the Hamiltons and Burrs of the earth, to give sad
evidence, that no velour, no genius alone can make
men great? Do we not daily meet with instances, of
youth amiable and promising as their fond parents'
wishes, who yet, merely for lack of religion, soon
make shipwreck of every precious hope, sacrificing
their gold to gamblers, their health to harlots, and
their glory to grog--making conscience their curse,
this life a purgatory, and the next a hell! In fact, a
young man, though of the finest talents and education, without religion, is but like a gorgeous ship with-
out ballast. Highly painted, and with flowing canvass,
she launches out on the deep; and during a smooth
sea and gentle breeze, she moves along stately as the
pride of the ocean; but as soon as the stormy winds
descend, and the blackening billows begin to roll, suddenly she is overset, and disappears for ever. But
who is this coming thus gloriously along, with masts
towering to heaven, and his sails white, looming like
the mountain of snows ? Who is it but "Columbia's first
and greatest son! " whose talents, like the sails of a
mighty ship, spread far and wide, catching the gales
of heaven, while his capacious soul, stored with the
rich ballast of religion, remains firm and unshaken as
the ponderous rock. The warm zephyrs of prosperity
breathe meltingly upon him--the rough storms of adversity descend--the big billows of affliction dash: but nothing can move him. His eye is fixed on God! the
present joys of an approving conscience, and the hope
of that glory which fadeth not away--these comfort
and support him.

" There exists," says Washington, " in the economy
of nature, an inseparable connexion between duty and
advantage,"--the whole life of this great man bears
glorious witness to the truth of this his favorite aphorism. At the giddy age of fourteen, when the spirits
of youth are all on tiptoe for freedom and adventures,
he felt a strong desire to go to sea but, very opposite
to his wishes, his mother declared that she could not
bear to part with him. His trial must have been
very severe; for I have been told that a midshipman's
commission was actually in his pocket--his trunk of
clothes on board the ship--his honour in some sort
pledged--his young companions importunate with him
to go--and his whole soul panting for the promised
pleasures of the voyage. But religion whispered " honour thy mother, and grieve not the spirit of her who
bore thee."

Instantly the glorious boy sacrificed inclination to
duty--drops all thought of the voyage--and gave tears
of joy to his widowed mother, in clasping to her
bosom a dear child who could deny himself his fondest
wishes to make her happy.

'Tis said, that when he saw the last boat going on
board, with several of his youthful friends in it--
when he saw the flash, and heard the report of the
signal gun for sailing, and the ship in all her pride
of canvas rounding off for sea, he could not bear it;
but turned away; and half choked with grief, went
into the room where his mother sat. " George, my
dear! " said she, " have you already repented that you
made your mother so happy just now?" Upon this,
falling on her bosom, with his arms around her neck,
and a gush of tears, he said: "My dear mother, I
must not deny that I am sorry. But, indeed, I feel
that I should be much more sorry, where I on board
the ship, and knew that you were unhappy."

"Well," replied she, embracing him tenderly, "God,
I hope, will reward my dear boy for this, some day
or other." Now see here, young reader; and learn
that HE who prescribes our duty, is able to reward it.
Had George left his fond mother to a broken heart,
and gone off to sea, 'tis next to certain that he would
never have taken that active part in the French and
Indian war, which, by securing him the hearts of his
countrymen, paved the way for all his future greatness.

Now for another instance of the wonderful effect
of religion on Washington's fortune. Shortly after
returning from the war of Cuba, Lawrence (his half
brother) was taken with the consumption, which made
him so excessively fretful, that his own brother
Augustin would seldom come near him. But George,
whose heart was early under the softening and sweetening influences of religion, felt such a tenderness for his poor sick brother, that he not only submitted to
his peevishness, but seemed, from what I have been
told, never so happy as when he was with him. He
accompanied him to the Island of Bermuda, in quest
of health--and, after their return to Mount Vernon
as often as his duty to Lord Fairfax permitted, he
would come down from the back woods to see him.
And, while with him, he was always contriving or
doing something to cheer and comfort his brother
Sometimes with his gun he would go out in quest of
partridges and snipes, and other fine-flavored game,
to tempt his brother's sickly appetite, and gain him
strength. At other times he would sit for hours and
read to him some entertaining book: and, when his
cough came on, he would support his drooping head,
and wipe the cold dew from his forehead, or the
phlegm from his lips, and give him his medicine, or
smooth his pillow, and all with such alacrity and artless
tenderness as proved me sweetest cordial to his
brother's spirits. For he was often heard to say to
the Fairfax family, into which he married, that " he
should think nothing of his sickness, if he could but
always have his brother George with him." Well,
what was the consequence? Why, when Lawrence
was dying, he left almost the whole of his large estate
to George, which served as another noble step to his
future greatness.

For further proof of "the inseparable connexion
between duty and advantage," let us look at Washington's conduct through the French and Indian war.
To a man of his uncommon military mind, and skill
in the arts of Indian warfare, the pride and precipitance of General Braddock must have been excessively
disgusting and disheartening. But we hear nothing
of his threatening either to leave or supplant Braddock.
On the contrary, he nobly brooked his rude manners;
gallantly obeyed his rash orders; and, as far as in him
lay, endeavoured to correct their fatal tendencies.

And, after the death of Braddock, and the desertion of Dunbar, that weak old man, Governor Dinwiddie, added infinitely to his hardships and hazards,
by appointing him to the defence of the frontiers,
and yet withholding the necessary forces and supplies.
But though by that means the western country was
continually overrun by the enemy, and cruelly deluged
in blood--though much wearied in body by marchings
and watchings, and worse tortured in soul, by the murders and desolations of the inhabitants, he shrinks not from duty--still seeking the smiles of conscience as his
greatest good; and as the sorest evil, dreading its
frowns, he bravely maintained his ground, and, after
three years of unequalled dangers and difficulties,
succeeded.

Well, what was the consequence ? why it drew
upon him, from his admiring countrymen, such an
unbounded confidence in his principles and patriotism"
as secured him the command of the American armies,
in the revolutionary war!

And there again the connexion between "duty and
advantage," was as gloriously displayed. For though
congress was, in legal and political knowledge, an
enlightened body, and for patriotism equal to the
senate of Republican Rome, yet certainly in military
matters they were no more to be compared to him,
than those others were to Hannibal. But still, though
they were constantly thwarting his counsels, and, in
place of good soldiers, sending him raw militia, thus
compelling inactivity, or insuring defeat--dragging out
the war--dispiriting the nation--and disgracing him,
yet we hear from him no gusts of passion--no dark
intrigues to supplant congress--and with the help of
an idolizing nation and army, to snatch the power from
their hands, and make himself king. On the contrary, he continues to treat congress as a virtuous
son his respected parents. He points out wiser measures, but in defect of their adoption, makes the best
use of those they give him; at length, through the
mighty blessing of God, established the independence
of his country; and then went back to his plough.

Well, what was the consequence ? Why, these
noble acts so completely filled up the measure of his
country's love for him, as to give him that first of all
felicities, the felicity to be regarded as the guardian
angel of his country, and to be able, by the magic of
his name, to scatter every cloud of danger that gathered over her head.

For example, at the close of the war, when the
army, about to be disbanded without their wages,
were wrought up to such a pitch of discontent and
rage, as seriously to threaten civil war, see the wonderful influence which their love for him gave him
over themselves! In the height of their passion, and
that a very natural passion too, he merely makes a
short speech to them, and the storm is laid! the tumult
subsides! and the soldiers, after all their hardships,
consent to ground their arms, and return home without
a penny in their pockets!!!

Also, in that very alarming dispute between Vermont and Pennsylvania, when the furious parties, in
spite of all the efforts of congress and their governors,
had actually shouldered their guns, and were dragging on their cannon for a bloody fight--Washington
only gave them a few lines of his advice, and they
instantly faced about for their homes, and laying by
their weapons, seized their ploughs again, like dutiful
children, on whose kindling passions a beloved father
had shaken his hoary locks ! !

And, in the western counties of Pennsylvania,
where certain blind patriots affecting to strain at the
gnat of a small excise, but ready enough to swallow
the infernal camel of rebellion, had kindled the flames
of civil war, and thrown the whole nation into a
tremor, Washington had just to send around a circular to the people of the union, stating the infinite
importance of maintaining the sacred reign of the
laws, and instantly twenty thousand well armed volunteers marched among the insurgents, and, without
shedding a drop of blood, extinguished the insurrection.
In short, it were endless to enumerate the many
dire insurrections and bloody wars which were
averted from this country by Washington, and all
through the divine force of early Religion ! for it was
this that enabled him inflexibly to do his duty, by
imitating God in his glorious works of wisdom and
benevolence; and all the rest followed as naturally as
light follows the sun.

We have seen, at page 27 of this little work, with
what pleasure the youthful Washington hung upon
his father's lip, while descanting on the adorable wisdom and benevolent designs of God in all parts of this beautiful and harmonious creation. By such lessons
in the book of nature, this virtuous youth was easily
prepared for the far higher and surer lectures of
revelation, I mean that blessed gospel which contains the moral philosophy of heaven. There he learnt,
that "God is love;"--and that all he desires, with
respect to men, is to glorify himself in their happiness;
and since virtue is indispensable to that happiness, the
infinite and eternal weight of God's attributes must be
in favour of virtue, and against vice; and consequently
that God will sooner or later gloriously reward the one,
and punish the other. This was the creed of Washington. And looking on it as the only basis of human
virtue and happiness, he very cordially embraced it
himself, and wished for nothing so much as to see all
others embrace it.

I have often been informed by Colonel B. Temple
(of King William County, Virginia,) who was one of
his aids in the French and Indian war, that he has
frequently known Washington, on the Sabbath, to
read scriptures and pray with his regiment, in the
absence of the chaplain; and also that, on sudden and
unexpected visits into his marquee, he has, more than
once, found him on his knees at his devotions.

The Reverend Mr. Lee Massey, long a rector of
Washington's parish, and from early life his intimate,
has frequently assured me, that " he never knew so
constant an attendant on church as Washington. And
his behaviour in the house of God," added my reverend
friend, " was so deeply reverential, that it produced
the happiest effects on my congregation; and greatly
assisted me in my moralizing labours. No company
ever withheld him from church. I have often been
at Mount Vernon, on the Sabbath morning, when his
breakfast table was filled with guests. But to him
they furnished no pretext for neglecting his God, and
losing the satisfaction of setting a good example. For
instead of staying at home, out of false complaisance
to them, he used constantly to invite them to accompany him."

His secretary, Judge Harrison, has frequently been
heard to say, that " whenever the general could be
spared from camp on the Sabbath, he never failed
riding out to some neighbouring church, to join those
who were publicly worshipping the great Creator."

And while he resided in Philadelphia, as president
of the United States, his constant and cheerful attendance on divine service was such as to convince every reflecting mind, that he deemed no levee so honourable as that of his Almighty Maker; no pleasures equal to those of devotion; and no business a sufficient
excuse for neglecting his supreme benefactor.